


A Christian Carol

by thunderkat



Category: Verbotene Liebe
Genre: M/M, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderkat/pseuds/thunderkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AN: Just a little bit of sexy times in this.</p></blockquote>





	1. Part The First: In Which Herr Mann Reflects Upon the Propriety of Certain Presents.

Christian reflected that he had, perhaps, been a bit obnoxious to Olli while they'd decorated the bar for the holidays. And, If the rough polyester of the flat -share couch against his cheek was any indication, Olli agreed. It wasn't that Christian was a grinch or anything, he just didn't see the fuss around this time of year. It was cold, he never managed to buy the right presents for anyone, and he was really nearly incapable of receiving gifts with any kind of graciousness. He hated the fake smiling, and the caroling, and truth be told he found gingerbread disgusting and the smell of pine made him queasy. He turned his long frame to lay on his back and let his feet dangle over the edge of the couch. But, these minor quirks really shouldn't mean he was banished from, what technically, was his bedroom, just because Olli was the second incarnation of Cindy Loo who.

Sometimes Olli really was a mystery. He didn't know why his boyfriend had insisted on exchanging presents early, but he felt like an idiot afterward. He'd gotten what he assumed to be a very clever present that would appeal to Olli's wicked sense of humor. Olli had given him the 2,000 € watch that Christian had briefly obsessed over during the summer. To say that they'd gotten their signals crossed, was a gross understatement. After Olli's decidedly less than warm reception and upon further review Christian had to grudgingly admit that maybe a_ "I'm not Gay, but my Boyfriend is_" T-shirt and a lemon yellow butt plug were a little crass and less than sentimental for the holidays. Especially since it was their first one together. He turned on his side again trying to alleviate the pressure in his lower back, and curled his toes, fighting off the draft in the flat share. Olli probably would've accepted the t-shirt good naturedly if Christian hadn't scoffed at his Christmas present. But honestly what the hell was he going to do with it? It was too expensive to wear casually, and it was damned heavy and impractical to boot. It was nearly as bad as that disgusting bag Rebecca had given him. He really would have to have a talk with that girl. He had to acknowledge that Olli probably wasn't too happy about the fact that he'd scheduled himself to work at the stud farm on Christmas day. But if Olli was realistic about it, Christmas really was just a day like any other. There was no reason to get so worked up about not seeing one another for the whole day that day. Besides, he didn't complain last year when Olli was stretched out on the beaches in Spain, did he? At least Christian was actually doing work.

To add to the stress Olli wanted to have a giant Christmas Eve party for all their friends. Bunch of moochers, Christian thought sullenly, and when the hell did Tristan become a friend anyway? He was so freaking weird. Christian gazed at the lights softly twinkling on the Christmas tree and tried to push his concerns away. He'd do something for Olli, tomorrow to make up for it maybe a day of damned shopping at the Christmas market before dinner or a free shift at No limits. Funny, now that he was an ex employee, he seemed to be behind the bar more than ever. Perhaps Olli was an evil genius. A sexy evil genius. A sexy evil genius who should be wrapped in his arms right now but wasn't.

Christian wasn't pouting.

He yawned as his eyelids drifted closed. He'd need his rest if Oliver woke up with the same attitude tomorrow, especially when he saw that Christian had skimmed a little off of the roast for tomorrow's dinner. He was a growing…Mann after all.


	2. Part The Second, In Which Herr Mann Learns the Importance of Trilled R, and Unconditional Acceptance

_Part the Second: In Which Herr Mann learns the importance of a Trilled r, and Unconditional Acceptance_

Christian struggled to bring the blankets closer to his chin, the draft was all pervasive and it was pulling him from a lovely dream involving Olli and some whipped cream. He felt the blanket continue to slip to the floor but seemed to be unable to get a good grip. Frustrated Christian opened his eyes determined to force his way back to his own warm bed. Instead, he came face to face with his father, and felt his heart lurch dangerously in his chest.

"Pa-Papa?"

"Hi Christian. Nice decorations there, the tree looks great, and you kept the owl ornaments."

Christian stared, open mouthed and disbelieving. His father was just perched the end of the couch, comfortable as you please, holding Christian's blanket, as though he were unaware of the fact that he was a dead man. Christian knew he'd have to talk to his cardiologist about the new prescription.

"Son, I know you're a bit confused, let me explain."

Christian edged away in terror, not sure if he wanted to hear the explanations of a drug induced hallucination. He fell off the couch and crawled over to the apartment door. Whenever he was afraid as a child he'd sneak into Gregor's bed to steal comfort, he was sure Luise wouldn't mind if he did it today, since he had a damned good reason.

"Damnit Chrissie SIT DOWN!"

His father bellowed, suddenly swelling to three times his size, his voice a tornado of authority in the small flat share. Christian slumped against the leg of the Foosball table, hugged his knees to his chest and screwed his eyes shut hoping his father would disappear as suddenly as he had come.

"Chrissie, I didn't mean to scare you, come back to the couch." Christian had never been one to disobey his father, so, eyes still closed, Christian made his way to the couch where he counted to ten, and opened his eyes, hoping the hallucination was gone.

"I'm real, son, aren't you happy to see your old man?"

"Ja klar, I'm like the sixth sense, I love talking to dead people. Now if I could just get the residuals"

His father chuckled heartily and clapped Christian on the shoulder, his hand was surprisingly warm and Christian allowed himself to be pulled in for a hug. It certainly felt right, and when he received the customary kiss in the middle of his brow, Christian finally believed.

"Papa, it is you! What is this? Am I-"

"Christian, don't worry, I couldn't even begin to explain to you what this is. All you need to know is that I'm here on official business."

Christian grumbled sullenly "What do you know about business, you never worked a day in your life."

His father pressed on pointedly annoying his sarcastic son.

"It seems you no longer remember the joys of Christmas. Not that I helped by pawning your presents every year, but tough times build character my boy."

Christian's heart still stung from the power wheels jeep that had gone the way of all his other presents, right to the pawnbrokers clutches.

"Tonight, you'll be visited by three more ghosts."

"What the fuck Papa? Why? I don't know if you're watching me from Heaven or Nirvana or whatever, but I have a heart condition I can't-"

"Don't interrupt your dead father, it's rude. I taught you better than that."

"Yes Papa." Christian replied glumly.

"Now, as I was saying," Wolfgang Mann pulled on a pair of cracked spectacles and took a roll of parchment out of his back pocket, as a bevy of old lotto tickets tumbled out and onto the floor.

"Heaven has lotto drawings?" Christian arched his eyebrow at his father, momentarily forgetting that it was from Wolfgang that he'd inherited the skill of the patented "You Must Be Shitting Me" Mann eyebrow raise. When he saw the mirrored expression on his father's face, he conceded to the master.

"AS I WAS SAYING," Wolfgang squinted at the parchment reading "_Thou wilst be visit'd this night by thrrreeee spectrrrres_ – they said I have to roll the r's I'm sorry _– for thou hast forrrrgotten the trrrrrrue meaning of Chrrrrrrristmas Chrrrrristian_. Yadda yadda yadda _rrrrrrrepent…_blah blah blah _or suferrrrrrrr the consequences_."

Wolfgang put away his spectacles and watched his son speculatively.

"Anything else Papa."

Wolfang shook his head,"Not really, except, well, I know you think I don't approve of you and that boyfriend of yours."

Christian swallowed nervously, blushing and looking at anything but his father's apparition, Which was actually quite easy since he could actually see right through him.

"Papa, I love him, and there's nothing wrong with that. And if you hate me for that, then so be it." Christian intoned, squaring himself for the disapproval he knew he'd find reflected in Wolfgang's eyes. When he found himself in his father's embrace again he stilled.

"Of course son, of course there's nothing wrong with that, I only ever wanted for you and your brother to be happy, and Olli, he's changed you for the better. How could I hate anything about that?"

Christian sighed, he hadn't known it, but he'd carried a little stone of doubt all this time, about what his father would say if he knew, the pain of his perceived disapproval a small but noticeable albatross around his neck. Now that it was gone, Christian knew he could experience fully the happiness that his relationship with Olli brought him.

"Thank you Papa." Christian whispered, as he felt the solid bulk of his father dissipate into the ether.


	3. Part the Third:In Which Herr Mann Contemplates the Blessings of Ghostly Love

Christian opened his eyes when heard the slow measured clapping sounding behind him.

"Mein gott, Christian, why don't you go live in a precious moments catalogue and spare me?"

"Olivia?" Christian's eyes were wide with incredulity, the girl was as unnerving as ever.

"Oh schatz, I'm so glad you remembered my name. I always told Olli you weren't the sharpest crayon in the box, but looks like all those blows to the head didn't affect you… much."

"Olivia, how the hell did you get in here? Aren't you supposed to be flat on your back in LA 'acting'?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your third semester as a Sport-Schüler? Oh wait, your heart's about as good as your crappy brain."

Christian lunged prepared to throw her bodily out of the flat share, but when he attempted to close his hand around her arm it passed clean through. Christian's arm tingled where they'd made contact and he got a cold choking feeling, as though his nose throat and lungs were filling with something viscous and inescapably cold.

He removed his hand from her insubstantial arm and peered into her eyes, not sure if he should believe what every sense screamed at him to acknowledge.

"Olivia, are you dead?" Christian asked softly, knowing yet dreading the answer.

"Well, you can certainly figure things out when you want to. I guess that chat thing was an isolated moment of idiocy. I'm also your first ghost by the way." Olivia whispered, floating away from Christian and toward his bedroom. Wan and pale, she really was a shade of her former self, and if he hadn't been so surprised by her, he would've picked up on it right away. But the most changed thing was the impenetrable cloak of sadness that haunted her eyes.

"Just let me see my cousin before we go," she pleaded softly over her spectral shoulder "It's so lonely where I am, and cold, and I miss Olli."

Christian was surprised by the sudden hot streak of tears on his cheek, and nodded dumbly. He'd never gotten along with Olivia. She was, perhaps, the only person he'd ever disliked solely by virtue of her existence. But he could never deny that the amount love she had for Olli was rivaled only by the amount of love she had for herself, and really, not by much.

"Olivia, wait, I'm sorry, but what happened?" He found himself wandering after her in a trance, but it was only when he passed through the wall as well did he realize that he'd left his body on the couch.

"Oh mein gott, am** I** dead now? What the FUCK!"

"Christian, shut up. You're not dead, stupid. It's temporary." Olivia snapped, as they came to a standing float above Olli.

They watched in fond amusement as he burrowed his face into Christian's pillow holding taking deep lungfulls of his lovers scent.

"He's so hopeless when it comes to you." Olivia said lovingly, before placing soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry I never paid you back Olli, I was going to, I really was, even if I had to work at Schneiders, or for you at NoLimits. I never wanted to disappoint you. But you know how much I hate prune hands."

Olli smiled in his sleep, and chuckled happily, and Christian saw Olivia give him one of her rare genuine smiles.

"Ok. I'm done!" Olivia said brightly, looking like some semblance of her old, alive, self.

"Time for you to come with me we have an appointment to keep and I do not want to be around when he starts dreaming of you, ick.!"

Christian suddenly realized that Olli was wearing his favorite pair of black boxer briefs, and he found his breathing affected, along with other parts of his phantasmagorical anatomy. If a ghost could get a hard on, Christian surmised that his current state might have some other distinct advantages and surprises, of which he would be a fool not to take advantage of.

"Olivia, um, can you give me 10 minutes"

"You're sick." Olivia sneered.

"Yeah yeah," Christian said waving her off. "Where do I meet you?"

"I, er, well, I'll be in Andi's room, why don't we just meet back in the living room."

"Right" Christan said knowingly, as he came to float directly above Olli.

He draped himself thin, a blanket of love and light over the thrumming vitality of Olli's form. He teased the very quarks and molecules of Olli's smooth skin, making love to him particle by particle lighting nerve ending by nerve ending aflame. He conducted the sinews and spaces within to quivering responsiveness, until Olli was writhing spread eagle, cock unabashedly erect, fluid dribbling down from its weeping slit, as he panted Christian's name along with a litany soft curses and grunts. Christian withdrew himself millimeter by agonizing millimeter keeping contact only with Olli's twitching cock, and then sent a wave of pure lust love and wonder right to Olli's soul and watched as his lover bucked his hips clear of the mattress, parted his red red lips and screamed Christian's name so loud, he was sure even Lars heard it all the way in Munich.

He returned his lovers breathing to normal, and left him one more ghostly kiss before floating out to meet Olivia.

"I don't even want to know." Olivia groaned, as she took Christian's hand.

"Oh come off it Olivia, you giant hypocrite." But Christian couldn't wipe the smug smile off of his face to save his life.

"Um, by the way, where are we going? I'm kind of nervous about leaving me here by myself?" Christian glanced anxiously at his slack jawed form. Maybe Olivia was right, sometimes he did look like a dumb jock. Oh…and he did snore. Crap, Olli was right.

"You'll be fine. Come or we'll be late."

Christian gave up and followed her out of the flatshare window and into the night winds of Dusseldorf. The landscape became increasingly familiar, and he realized with a start that they were descending toward his home village, and the house of his childhood.

"I remember this!" Christian gasped as they came to a stop in front of his old house.

"Yes, well you only lived here for more than half your life, Christian."

"No, No," he responded, vibrating with impatience, "I mean I remember this night, I haven't thought about it for years." He whispered softly to himself and pressed his nose against the frosted pane of his old bedroom.

"Wow," Olivia whispered, floating beside him "you and Gregor were pretty cute as kids, bet you'd never have guessed that one of you would become a call-boy and the other a power-bottom."

Christian whirled on Olivia glaring.

"What schatz?" Olivia winked "Olli and I used to talk about..EVERYTHING." Chrisitan struggled to remember that it would really make no difference to a dead girl whether you shook her within an inch of her un-life.

They turned once again to the window to watch the scene play out before them, and Christian smiled as he heard his younger self giving orders, to an increasingly frustrated Gregor.

"We have to use the back window, where mutti won't hear us Gwegor!"

Olivia glanced questioningly at the elder Christian then laughed in his face. "Did yew have a widdle speech impediment! How adowable!"

"One more word Olivia-"

"Ok, I'm being quiet! Not like you could do anything anyway."

They turned their attention once more to the younger Mann men

"Christian, this plan is stupid anyway, Papa's axe is dangerous, and we'll never be able to sneak an entire TREE into the house. You're crazy, you're Christmas crazy that's what you are!" Gregor's bowl cut bangs shook with frustration as he shouted at his younger brother.

"Gwegor. We're going. WE are going to cut a twee down fwom the fowest, We are going to bring it in and WE are going to make a surpwise Chwistmus for Momma. Because we're her big boys and she depends on us. Chwistmus is Chwistmus because of us, we can't depend on Santa or Papa, so if we want her to have a good Christmas we HAVE to do this!"

The boys stared at each other both couched in the unyielding stubbornness of extreme youth.

Gregor yielded to his younger brother, recognizing the fervor in Christian's eyes.

" Fine."

Christian brightened and hustled his older brother out of their bedroom. Moments later Christian watched them cut a lonely path to the forest, with their fathers axe in tow, as the wind stained their cheeks and noses red.

The elder Christian watched in awe as he bullied, wheedled, begged and manipulated his elder brother into staying to finish cutting down the baby fir. He shook his head in silent astonishment as the boys hauled the thing into the house in the pre-dawn hours, and decorated it to shining brilliance.

"Christian," Gregor breathed. We did really good"

"Yeah, bruder, we did. This'll definitewy make mutti happy."

The elder christian's throat tightened when he saw his mother approach the tree the next morning and stumble, weeping with shock, at the sight she beheld. He did not need to watch as she crept to their room and held her sons in her weeping embrace. Christian remembered completely now, what it was to give a gift from the heart, a gift borne of love, not obligation. He and Gregor had gotten in serious trouble afterward when their father had returned, but even as he scolded them the pride and joy his mother felt dampened any harsh words Wolfgang had to offer.

He felt Olivia grab at his hand gently.

"Come on Christian, time to go back. I think you've seen everything you need to see here."

He found himself back in the flatshare, still dazed from the memory to which Olivia – of all people! – had led him.

"Ok, Chrissie Baby, time for me to go." Christian squinted as she began to dissolve, and heard her ask earnestly, pleadingly

"Please don't let Olli forget me."

"Never Olivia, and I won't either. Thank you."

He realized his last words were to the empty air of the flat, but hoped that Olivia heard them anyway.


	4. Part the Fourth: In Which Herr Mann Contemplates the Virtues of the Good Stickie Icky

He realized that the flat share didn't feel as drafty as it had before, but was still a bit distressed about not being back in his body. He debated between taking a running leap at his corporeal self and floating back into the bedroom to, as the British say, give Olli a right good rogering. He'd just turned toward his bedroom when he glimpsed a glowing light from the corner of his eye.

"What now?" He pondered as he floated over to the table where he found the glowing light source. He heard a tiny, strangely familiar, musical voice calling his name and giggling. He leaned over until his nose was close to the surface of the table and gasped when he recognized Coco in miniature, dressed in a gold –trimmed blue sari.

"Coco? Oh no, are you dead too? Was it malaria? Why are you so small?"

Coco grabbed Christian and kissed him warmly on the end of the nose, the promptly exploded into her correct size. Christian blinked rapidly floating back in fright.

"Nope! I'm not dead Christian."

"What the hell is it with you ghosts and changing sizes?" Christian sputtered. "Trust me, there are MUCH cooler things to do."

Coco giggled again, and promptly tackled Christian to the ground, to straddle his waist. She was surprisingly spry for someone who was constrained by ornate traditional Indian garb.

"You mean the sex thing? Old news Christian! And if I let you keep up with that business you guys would need to get a new bed!"

"Ok, new furniture aside, I've had conversations with two people who had similar abilities and they were pretty damned dead." Christian rolled her off of him and stood, hands on hips tugging exasperatedly at his hair. "What's your deal, anyway?"

She gazed up at him, eyes shining "Those who are dead are not dead they're just living in my head." She threw her head back, and as her peals of throaty laughter rang through the apartment Christian inexplicably found the sight infectious and before he could stop himself he was laughing along.

Coco floated around the apartment taking in the various changes, laughing at the pictures of Christian and Olli adorning the fridge and every available surface of the flat share.

"Look at you here," she said, pausing in front of one of Christian's favorites pictures on the fridge, he and Olli after Olli returned from Ibiza. "You never smiled like that with me."

She wandered over to his still incapacitated body and released that same resounding laugh.

"But you snore worse than ever!"

"I forgot to use the Breathe-right strips!"

"Man, Christian forget the strips you need a new nose man."

"Look, Coco, not to press the issue, or cut short your trip down memory lane, but if you're not dead, how the hell did you get like this?"

Coco upended herself in a handstand and walked over to her ex-boyfriend, before settling into a scorpion pose, fifth variant.

"Silly, you're like this too and you're not dead. We have simply arrived at a higher level of awareness, Christian, manifesting our respective realities upon the astral projection of our incorporeal selves!"

Christian watched in fascination as she continued to lecture him, emphasizing points with her dainty hennaed feet. "There are isolated times when we mere mortals can transcend the bonds of our physical coils, yogis in India, the ancient Mayan priests, the druids of stonehenge, and now, me!" Coco finished with a grand flourish of her left foot.

Christian responded in the only way he felt appropriate. "Huh?"

"To summarize," She flipped herself upright again. "I'm high as shit! Oh, I'm going to send you guys some of this stuff asap, it's just fantastic. I'm sitting in a temple right now and I feel at one with the universe!"

Coco closed her eyes and an aura of contentment settled around her. She glowed brighter and brighter, then snapped her eyes open. "Let's go. I'm going to have so much dhal puri when I'm done here, I can't wait!"Christian threw his hands up and shook his head. "Lead on Coco, lead on."

Coco chatted animatedly with Christian as they floated, recounting her DJ exploits with Rocco, and joining in with a carol here and there. Christian remembered the ease that had characterized the early part of their relationship, and reflected that if he and she were in fact NOT dead, it would be great to be friends again.

Christian gasped when he saw the Eiffel tower in the approaching horizon, he had followed Coco unheedingly and was astounded at how far they'd traveled in so short a space of time. Dusseldorf to Wuppertal was one thing, Dusseldorf to Paris was quite another.

They came to a stop in front of a somber looking mansion, dark throughout except for a small flickering candle in a room in one of the lower floors.

Christian turned to Coco in confusion, but she placed a finger over her lips beckoning him be quiet as they entered the crypt-like house.

"Coco, you dumbass, we're ghosts, no one's going to hear us." But that didn't stop Christian from whispering this observation - just in case.

They stopped in the study, of the less than welcoming home. There they found a middle aged, raven haired woman sitting at a desk, her head cradled in one hand, a pen in the other, poised above a piece of paper. Christian turned to Coco in confusion, but she shushed him again and pointed toward the woman. Christian watched as she scribbled something on a piece of paper, then quickly ripped it to shreds. Christian couldn't quite shake the impression that he knew her from somewhere. It was the strangest thing, he knew he had no family in France, and he was fairly sure he hadn't seen her around Dusseldorf. He turned to Coco, "Who is she?"

Coco smiled a little sadly and answered, "She's someone who thinks happiness exists in the world in a fixed amount."

Christian turned to see the woman speaking into a telephone, still shrouded in the dark.

"Max? No, I'm fine I just-" The hesitation was clear in every line of tension of her face, and Christian, who was quite adept at reading people, could practically feel the stiffness seeping out of every pore.

"I just wanted to know, did Olli call?"

It hit Christian at once. The same silky black hair, the same impossibly long lashes, Olli took his looks from his mother, apparently. But where there should have been a mouth smiling in welcome generosity, there was a hard fixed demarcation of determination. Instead of the flashing mischief he was accustomed to catching in Olli's bright green orbs, he found shifting shadows of doubt.

Christian knew the answer to Henriette's question. Of course Olli didn't call, it wasn't Olli's move to make. But Christian would never have expected that the infamous Henriette, would be sitting in the dark in France, pining for the son she pushed away.

Christian watched her stiffen at the inevitable answer, then saw her assemble a shell around herself and turn into the woman he would have first expected.

"Well negotiations are going great anyway. I'll have shareholder control by Christmas day, but I'll need to stay to close the deal, so I won't see you until the New Year. I don't want to hear any complaints Max, after all we have a lifestyle to maintain." A pause, then "I will NOT call him Max, obviously he doesn't care enough about our relationship, so why should I give him the satisfaction."

Christian turned away. "Let's go. I'm done watching this shit."

Coco held him in place gently, but firmly. They watched as Frau Sabel put the phone on the receiver, slumped down in the chair and cried softly to herself.

Coco floated over to Henriette and stroked her hair and face sympathetically, whispering something Christian could not hear. It seemed to calm the woman a bit, though her face was still red and tear streaked, and nothing could quite lift the anguished bend of her sharp features.

"Now we go Christian." Coco's sari trailed behind her as she walked through the window, and Christian followed, sparing one last glance at Henriette. "She did it to herself," Coco said, floating and folding herself into the third lotus variant. "Too proud for Olli, and too busy for her husband, Max, and then she wonders why she's alone again during the holidays. You have to let the people who are important to you know it. That's what I loved best about you Christian, you always knew how to make me feel special. I'm sure that hasn't changed with Olli. Right?"

Christian nodded, sitting down on the arm of his blue couch back at that flat share, not even remotely surprised to be home again. Coco floated before him, still impossibly twisted in her yogic pose and Christian watched in dumb disbelief as she began to flare brighter and brighter, and right before he had to avert his eyes from the incredible incandescence, she laughed one last time and kissed him on the cheek. "Shanti and Namaste Christian Mann."

Christian was left blinking in the darkness, dazed and confused.


	5. Part the Fifth: In Which Herr Mann Gets the #$%^ Scared Out of Him.

Christian sat patiently. He knew the score by now, and waited expectantly for the third ghost. He was getting used to his "altered state" as Coco had called it and wondered if he would have time to float over to Gregor's apartment to mess with him before the third spirit appeared. He was still a bit uncomfortable watching himself sleep, but laughed when he saw Andi wander aimlessly into the living room to grab some water. He reminded himself to ask his friend if he'd had any strange dreams. If he knew Olivia, Andi was going to be in quite a state the next day. Well, that was of course assuming that he would wake up from his own experience in the twilight zone in time for the next day. He smiled gratefully as Andi covered his body with the fallen blanket and repositioned his sprawling legs before heading back to his bedroom.

Christian turned to watch the tree for a few moments, but his heart rate – was it even a heart rate when you were a ghost? - doubled when Olli came out into the living room. It was frightening and somehow gratifying to know that even after two years together, just the sight of Olli still had this effect on Christian, made him short of breath and unable to concentrate. He floated over, watching Olli walk over to the couch and kneel beside his prone form.

"Ich Liebe dich." Olli said softly, and pressed a feather light kiss to Christian's lips.

Christian railed at himself to wake up, fought to drive himself back into his body, take Oliver in his arms, and say it back. Fought to say everything he failed to say everyday of the year. For an insane moment he was jealous of himself, and he struggled even harder to gain possession of his body.

He could almost feel the heavy weight of his selfhood again, knew he was this close to being with Olli, when an icy chill descended on his shoulder and wrenched him away from his love.

Christian spun around, hands up, prepared to fight but recoiled in terror at the vision with which he was confronted.

The hand on his shoulder was more claw than hand, with gray decaying skin sloughing off onto the floor. The wraith was dressed from head to foot in a moldy black robe, its face was shrouded in mystery and darkness, obscured by an oversized cowl. He could see stringy brown hair peeking out from underneath, and compelled by the creature's sheer wretchedness, Christian scrutinized the thing further. He couldn't make out any features save for a large slimy pouting mouth, out of which poured the stench of earth and decay. Christian instinctually pushed against it, wanting to move it as far away from Olli as possible, he turned back to his sleeping form and saw that Olli had settled himself beside Christian, and looked likely to stay there for the night. Christian turned again to this third ghost determined to push it out of the flat share entirely when he found himself alone again.

He chanced a glance back to make sure Olli was all right, but instead of the familiar blue of their couch, he saw a white leather sofa. Most everything seemed unchanged, but Christian could sense that he was somehow out of his element. It dawned on him that it was also the morning. He was confused and frightened. He had no guide this time, and he was home but not. He didn't know where he was, when he was and he didn't know where Olli was. For the first time since the night started, he was totally and utterly frightened. It didn't help when he smelt the sepulchral breath of his earlier attacker blow across his shoulder. He looked again at the demon, but it remained silent and pointed ominously at the door to the bedrooms. Christian made his way over to the door and paused apprehensively. He didn't bother looking back at the ghost, he knew he'd find no help there.

But there was nothing that could have prepared him for the sight he found, Olli, his Oliver, face creased with age, hair silvered, and eyes heavy with years but still so beautiful. Except Christian could see the life ebbing away from him, could hear the last rattles of life as his chest struggled to fill with air. He was surrounded by loved ones, but Christian only recognized Gregor, in a nearly antediluvian state, and spied Andi, who looked like he'd only aged about 10 years. Bastard Fritzsche genetics. He looked frantically for himself, but realized with a sinking heart, that he wasn't there. Was he already dead? He hovered closer to Olli, caressing the aged man's face, his tears refusing to be contained. He heard Andi ask the question that he desperately needed the answer to as well.

"Are you sure you don't want us to call Christian?"

Christian watched Oliver as he struggled to reply, his breath laboring in sympathy with his dying lover's.

"No," Oliver laughed hoarsely "Christian chose his career, and I hope it's made him happy. I never wanted much from him, just for him to show he cared once in a while, schedule his time around me, instead of the other way around." Oliver sighed, "I hope he knows how much I cared."

Christian was trying to clutch at the man trying to respond, trying to assure Oliver that he knew, and he felt the same and that Olli couldn't leave yet without letting him say it, but his throat was choked with sobs, and Oliver wouldn't hear.

He watched in horror as the ghost that he'd left out in the living room slinked nearer to Olli, and Christian screamed like a man possessed, lunging at it and knocking the thing to the ground blindly landing punches wherever he could.

"Take us back!" He shouted "Let me fix this. Let me fix this! Bitte!" His hands were clutched around the ghosts windpipe and his eyes stung fiercely with the volume of tears pouring forth from him.

The wraith dissolved beneath him and he felt himself being swallowed, sucked in by something warm and thick and he fought against the sucking vortex, before closing his eyes and giving up. If this was what was going to happen to he and Olli, then what was the point of fighting? Why not end it now and let himself be swallowed and led to…wherever.

"Christian? Christian wake up!"

Christian's eyes fluttered open as he twitched to wakefulness. He was back. He was home. But better than any of that, he was with Olli. He couldn't contain the bursting joy he felt when he met Oliver's concerned green gaze. He couldn't stop his arms from wrapping around the other man and holding him fiercely, possessively.

"You're alive!"

Olli disentangled himself from the crushing hold and held his hand to Christian's forehead to check for a fever.

"Yes," he said slowly, "You were having a bad dream, schatz." He ran his fingers through Christian's hair, placating the younger man and attempting to soothe the staccato rhythm of his strained heart.

Christian wrapped his legs around Olli and pulled him in for a kiss. "I love you," he said eager to touch every inch of Olli, to affirm that he was here, and he was ok, that they were ok.

"I love you, and I'm sorry about the stupid shirt, and I'll tell the stable to find someone else for Christmas because I want to be with you, I don't want it to be too late for us."

Olli pulled back, alarmed at Christian's frantic babbling. "What brought all this on? I mean, is a night on the couch that bad?" He laughed nervously, truly concerned now that perhaps, perhaps Christian was just a little bit insane. Really sexy. But still – insane.

"Olli," Christian said, "you have NO idea, I never want to sleep on this couch again."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Ich liebe dich - "I Love you"_

_Bitte - "Please"_

_Schatz - "Sweetheart, Honey"_


	6. Part the Sixth: In Which Herr Sabel Receives His REAL Christmas Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just a little bit of sexy times in this.

Olli had fully intended to put Christian through the ringer on account of his atrocious behavior yesterday. Fine, he could admit that the T-shirt was sort of funny, and true. And yes, he was probably going to be using the butt-plug. A lot. He could even excuse the lukewarm reaction to the watch. But working on Christmas day, and the general pissiness, were a no go. He'd gone to bed in a foul mood pledging that if Christian wanted pissy, he'd be getting it back in spades. But the grumpy grinch-like Christian he had girded himself to deal with this morning was nowhere to be found. Instead he was contending with a Christian whose Christmas spirit rivaled his, no small feat. And if Olli was honest with himself, by the time he'd curled up with Christian on the couch last night, he had basically been ready to forgive his boyfriend, provided he make some small overture of contrition. If waking up to hugs, kisses, and "I love you's" didn't count as contrition, Olli mused, then having your boyfriend's hot talented tongue on your dick first thing in the morning certainly did. He grabbed a fistful of Christian's hair when he felt the younger mans hands skimming over his torso. When he looked down and met those shockingly blue eyes, he threw his head back, mouth open in a silent scream as his hips bucked into Christian's waiting generous mouth. Boneless and sated, he had just enough energy to pull Christian up for a kiss.

"So," Olli panted "Merry Christmas Eve. Apparently dreams come true."

Christian was chuckling softly, still nuzzling and touching as much of Olli as he could.

"Were you dreaming of me, Olli?"

The seductive whisper in his ear was threatening to push Olli once again to the edge, he reached for Christian to reciprocate and was surprised to find his hands pushed away. Ok, Christmas spirit, check, getting off in the morning check, but Christian refusing to get off? Christian was laughing at Olli's gaping stare.

"Don't look so shocked, Olli, after all we have a lot to do today." Olli watched Christian 2.0 - _Now with extra holiday cheer!_ – bounce from the couch and rattle off a list of all the Christmas related activities he wanted to do with Olli.

Olli wasn't sure exactly why Christian was in such a good mood, and in truth he was afraid to probe lest the bubble burst. When Christian got to building gingerbread houses, Olli had to choke back his laughter.

"Well don't just sit there, Oliver, let's get going."

Olli cast an appraising eye toward his boyfriend. Ok. Time to see just how far Christian was willing to take this. To be honest, he'd always thought Christian was hotter when he was a little out of sorts. And with his new and improved attitude it was time to test his limits.

* * *

Olli was sure he'd gone to far when he put the tri-colored elf hat on Christian and started snapping pictures. He was sure Christian would bitch at him for insisting he take a picture with Santa Clause. He was shocked when Christian not only sang six songs with carolers, but opted to ride the mechanical reindeer without provocation. If Gregor and Luise hadn't been there to witness it, he would've sworn he was dreaming. By the time they returned to the apartment to prepare for dinner that evening, Olli had stopped questioning why, or trying to annoy his boyfriend. If, for once ,their moods were in sync, then it was probably better to go with it. He'd even been able to talk to Christian about possibly reconciling with Olivia, and instead of being met with sardonic comments, he was met with unflinching support. As far as Olli was concerned, Christmas didn't need to come, he'd gotten more than he'd dared hope for.

"And you're doing the dishes, wow. I'm sorry Christian, but you're going to be on the couch a lot more often if this is what I get. It's a little thing called positive reinforcement and you're giving it to me in spades." Christian turned around and held him closely, slightly swaying to no music at all. Olli buried his nose in the hollow of his man's shoulder, letting the weariness of the day slip away.

"Well this is my positive reinforcement, being with you, like this. Did I tell you I love you?"

"Yes, about a million times, and I love hearing it, so feel free to continue."

Christian held him tighter and murmured against his temple, "I love you, I love your smile, I love how you make me happy, I love trying to make you happy, I love your laugh, I just love you Olli. And I'm sorry, again, about yesterday I-"

Olli shut his boyfriend up with a kiss. "You more than made up for yesterday Christian. I just wanted you to appreciate how much I appreciate you. I think you definitely get that now."

He felt Christian smile against his lips and start to laugh.'

"What? What is it?"

"It's midnight Olli, and that means Merry Christmas!"

Olli whooped as Christian whirled him around, and laughed as they settled by the dining room window.

"Merry Christmas Christian." He leaned forward to give Christian their first Christmas kiss as a couple, and sighed contentedly as they turned to the window to watch the snow fall over Dusseldorf.


	7. Epilogue: Part The Last: In Which Herr Sabel is Divested of Certain Garments, and Herr Mann Reaches the Apex of His Contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Smut smut smut! ok not that bad, a little sweetness thrown in for good measure. :)

Epilogue: Part the Last: In Which Herr Sabel is Divested of Certain Garments, and Herr Mann Reaches the Apex of His Contentment.

For Christian, the solid weight of his lover, and the ability to actually touch him after a night of insubstantial existence had been so gratifying. He'd known Olli was having fun at his expense all day, but he was so ridiculously grateful that they were both young and alive and, more importantly, that they had time, that he allowed it – though that Santa had smelled a bit…ripe. No matter. He drank Olli's kisses like ambrosia, nearly trembled at the simplest of touches, and luxuriated in the all-encompassing warmth of Olli's smile and laughter. Watching the flakes swirl past the flat share window with Olli in his protective embrace, Christian couldn't think of anything that could have made the day more perfect. Well that wasn't exactly true, he could think of one thing.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"We have some unfinished business."

"We do?"

Nuzzling Olli's ear, he whispered " Yes, from this morning"

"Mmmm."

Christian knew that Olli's hum either meant he was half tired or already on his way to half hard. If it was the latter, then great. If it was the former, then it was time to wake his lover up. Christian bit Olli's neck softly, while drawing him closer, his tongue darting out to sample the skin there. Then he moved on to an earlobe as one wandering hand untucked Olli's sweater. He slid his hands along the fever hot abdomen down toward the waistband of his jeans, down further to grasp his lover fully. He growled as Olli's head fell back onto his shoulder and he began lazily but insistently swiveling his hips against Olli's firm posterior, reveling in the microscopic gasps and sighs this elicited from the older man.

"Lose the shirt," Christian muttered, as he bit Olli's trapezius and took an even tighter hold of his boyfriend, establishing an excruciatingly slow rhythm up and down. Olli whimpered and pushed back against Christian, relishing their mutual excitement, and eager to increase that delicious friction. He screwed his eyes shut at the triple sensations of Christian's tongue bathing the side of his neck, one hand scraping a taut nipple, the other skimming relentlessly over his sensitized, engorged head.

In a flurry of motion Olli threw his sequined knit Frosty the Snowman sweater to the ground and reached behind him to undo Christian's jeans. He turned to face Christian and smirked mischievously, as he grasped the younger man through his boxers.

"Right. I definitely owe you."

He slunk down to his knees taking Christian's boxers with him, and didn't break eye contact until Christian's member was buried to the hilt in Olli's very eager aperture. With one hand gently stroking Olli's firm jaw, and the other firmly braced in front of him, Christian alternated his focus between the dark fan of Olli's lashes against his hollowed cheeks, and the corona of heat radiating outward from his own hand in contrast to the cool window. To his credit, he managed not to go completely insane at Olli's first intruding digit, but he felt the rational thought abscond as Olli gently massaged his prostate. He came apart completely, thrusting, convulsing and shuddering around Olli's bent form, eyes tearing with the pleasure of it. Olli released him with an audible 'pop' and stood up. "Come, Schatz. let's go to bed." Christian had just enough presence of mind to kiss the wantonly plump lips of his lover before following him into their bedroom.

An eternity of tensed muscles, sharply drawn breaths, and hushed cries later, Christian felt his logic return while he contemplated Olli sleeping beside him in bed. He was cognizant of only two things; one,his boyfriend really was an evil genius when it came to sex, quite brilliant actually and two, although he was actually sad that he had to wait another 365 days for Christmas, he was quite glad of the fact that he'd have another year to plan out the perfect proposal for his future husband. He'd have to remember to consult Luise. He shut his eyes and joined Olli in smiling slumber.

* * *

Wolfgang deposited one of his discarded lottery tickets on the foosball table. If his son was going to get married, he'd need to have a good nest egg to start off with, and it should be enough to cover Christian's upcoming expenses, and enough to take care of Gregor too. He floated over to his son's bedroom, and ran an ephemeral hand through Christian's glossy hair.

"Merry Christmas, Son," he said lightly. "Don't spend it all in one place like your old man would."

He drifted out of the bedroom window into the beyond, buoyed by the love and happiness in his son's heart.


End file.
